Poem with No Clouds Through a window washed just yesterday a half-hidden sea-color glows in the needles of an evergreen,…
First Memory I asked a friend, What is the earliest memory of your childhood? She said it was a clear…
Trying to Show You The horizon makes a perfect circle with bumps for the mountains. From up here I…
Parenthood, Unplanned When a jasmine-scented teenager (not yet my mother) came up pregnant with me, my father stepped up. They…
Like An Easter Basket Filled with Candy Eggs Or a stocking stuffed and hanging— I want you to know if…
The Last Gift Two daughters, cross-legged on the hospital floor, heads down focused on their computers; professors don't wait until…
Left of the Dial --The man on the radio says it is 5 am You describe being intimate…
In Memory of Peter Sears (1937-2017) Poet, teacher, friend-- I believe that when I…
Then I am sorry for climbing the gray branches of the bent fig, and for slamming the screen door with…